


The Curious Death of Elena Hunt née Luthor

by Hors_Doeuvres



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Dark, Dark SuperCorp, Dark SuperCorp AU, Dreams, Dubious Consent, F/F, Journal, SuperCorp, karlena
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25341271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hors_Doeuvres/pseuds/Hors_Doeuvres
Summary: “In my darkest nytmares, I have found the most sublime of dreams— and to it, I will readily submit, until I am satisfied.”Fourth Dark SuperCorp AU.Trigger warning for murder/suicide, dark and sexual fantasies, dubious consent, sex kinks, graphic descriptions, violence, and altogether just a whole lot of dark themes.#4 Dark SuperCorp AU.This time, a two-shot (two-shot story).
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 17
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you will enjoy this fourth addition to my Dark SuperCorp series. This one is a bit different and was inspired by the song: 
> 
> “Me and The Devil” by Soap&Skin  
> — specifically the part, 
> 
> “Early this morning,  
> When you knocked upon my door  
> And I said hello Satan, ah—  
> I believe it is time to go.  
> Me and the devil walkin' side by side—  
> And I’m gonna see my /man/ woman,  
> Until I get satisfied.”
> 
> A warning, as usual, this story will have very dark and very adult themes and questionable morality— with a great potential for offense and triggering. 
> 
> So, delicious humans:
> 
> Enter at your own risk.
> 
> And enjoy!
> 
> Fourth Dark SuperCorp AU. Trigger warning for murder/suicide, dark/sexual fantasies, dubious consent, sex kinks, graphic descriptions, violence, and altogether just a whole lot of dark themes. 
> 
> #4 Dark SuperCorp AU. 
> 
> This time, a two-shot (two-shot story).
> 
> P.S. For more dark SuperCorp goodness: check out my other Dark SuperCorp AU works:  
> 1\. She Had My Wife’s Eyes (one-shot).  
> 2\. She Can Hold Her Poison (one-shot).  
> 3\. She Learned to Deal with The Devil (three-shot).

**The Journal of Gerald Hunt:**

**_17th of November,_ **

**_I have noticed, as of late, the great exhaustion of my wife, Elena._ **

**_Samantha had informed me of something akin to this upon my return._ **

_**However, I had believed it resolved in the past few days I have been home, thinking it to be caused by a great missing of me. She had perked up, fantastically, with my presence. But now, she has become ill again with great aches and pains and weary-es to bed in the early evenings for the past three days. I have become quite worried and have decided to cut my next trip short. I have been gone for much a time, immediately so soon after our wedding and change of residence.** _

_**I have to spend time with my beloved and aid in nursing her to better health.** _

_**I will speak to Alexander of this when we meet with the Greys and will ask for his blessings in my endeavour.** _

_—_

_Days Before:_

_—_

**The Journal of Elena Hunt née Luthor:**

_3 November,_

_It is the third nyt that Gerald has been gone. He has advised me to start my own journalling to record the memories of our new life together. I have followed his advice and have begun this journal. I read much better than I write, but I hope that with more practice, I will be able to improve._

_The house we have moved into in this new city is very big and spaceful, it makes me feel more lonely when Gerald is not around. I was allowed to bring my friended handmaiden, Samantha, but she has been busy with our new staff, ensuring the care of our new home as we settle ourselves here._

_Alexander has trusted Gerald greatly. With me and the new branch of business he hopes will flourish here. My new husband, my old friend, my love, Gerald, is very excited with this new opportunity. But with it comes great responsibilities. And far travels to establish new connections._

_But his duties having taken priority over his time withe me, though understandable, is… frustrating._

_It makes me blush heatedly to write this, but we had planned to… consummate our marriage on the nyt of our wedding, in our new home. But it was with great misfortune that my red eclipse of this month had arrived earlier than expected, and Gerald had decided it best to forego our first love-making until he returns in a fortnyt._

_I miss Gerald. And this new house, well, new to us, has a curious smell at nyt. Not a terrible one, just lingering. Floral. Gentle. It permeates the air, especially when I am about to slumber._

_Perhaps it comes from the overgrown and wilded garden of our neighbours? I am unsure. But it can be sweet, so I have taken to keeping the windows open at nyt to welcome it to my— our bedchambers._

_—_

_5 November,_

_I am… puzzled._

_My head is fogged. I have been having the strangest of dreams. If they can be called as such. I have left my windows open. And on the past two nyts, after I have left my windows open, there is a figure that comes to me in the shadows._

_It has been shapeless, and when it comes, I find myself frozen, my chest tight, as if unable to breath. In the darkness, I am unable to distinguish any features. But I know it is there, and though the unknown terrifies me, I find myself unable to tell anyone of it as it does me no harm, and I worry that it is only nytmares._

_I do not wish to worry my friend, Samantha, and if I were to tell her, she will tell Gerald. And Gerald will worry. As he always does with me. And he has much to do. Alexander relies on him. I rely on him. He must not have distractions as he does his work._

_And since it seems to only come in the dark— tonyt, I plan on lighting candles. To bathe the room in light and to, hopefully, dissuade the shadow from coming to me, in reality or in dreams._

_—_

_6 November,_

_Last nyt, the shadow came again._

_But with the light—_

_I saw it._

_I saw her._

_—_

_7 November,_

_My body aches and hurts._

_But it is— a pleasant pain, and I am ashamed to admit it. I did not find myself able to write what happened on the nyt of the 5th, but I have found myself desperate to express it, to help me understand, for I have lost myself any confidant. _

_What happened that nyt, was definitely in the realm of dreams, for it was impossible. Irrational. Illogical. What I saw was beyond fact, and I have resigned myself to being a victim of the most wanton and vulgar of dreams, nytmares. And to tell Samantha or Gerald would be to convince them of my insanity or at the very least, my impurity._

_For that nyt— that horrible, wonderful, awful, exquisite nyt— I had been taken._

_By her._

_—_

_On the nyt of the 5th of November, I had lit multiple candles, as I had written, to bathe our chambers in light and to, hopefully, stop the shadow from coming to me._

_But that nyt, as I was close to slumber, the sweet, pervading scent of flowers clung to me. It seemed stronger than usual, and my nose felt almost stuffed with it. But though I wanted to get up and close the windows, I found my limbs to be quite heavy and unmanageable. Thus, I remained in bed, still, drifting between the worlds of sleep and wakefulness. Until—_

_Until I saw a movement in my peripheral. A shadow amongst the shadows. I felt my breath catch, my chest tighten. It was coming closer, and as it stepped into the light that I had intentionally prepared, the darkness of it somehow began to unravel._

_The shadow, so dark and formless, became like robes, thick and billowing, though there was no wind. And as I watched, unblinking, they began to fall and reveal a woman._

_But yet not a woman. Her hair was golden, wild and long and drifting down her body like waves, never still. Never still. And her eyes, they were like diamonds, white with a thin film of blue. A hint. A tinge. Her skin looked soft, lightly tanned, gently kissed by the sun. And her face, symmetrical, flawless._

_Her skin was delicately patterned in certain areas, on her forehead, her cheeks, and her collarbones (when they were unveiled). They bore the design of snake skin, scaled and textured. And as I was presented all of this, the robes continued to fall, until there was nothing more, and she was starkly nude. Her only cover, her hair, which modestly covered her breasts but not— not between her legs._

_Then suddenly, she spoke, though her lips, so full and smiling, never moved. And her voice echoed like a hiss in my head, a dream. A dream indeed. She had thanked me for my welcoming of her. For the open window, for the candles. And as she spoke, she advanced, smoothly and swiftly climbing onto the bed._

_And I was unable to move, completely shocked. And still unblinking. Until her hands reached under my nyt dress (I had not pulled my covers on me that nyt for it was warm), and grabbed my knees. And then I blinked and started kicking. Frightened, I told her to get off me, release me._

_But my fight was lacking, as if unfueled. My body still remained heavy and the scent of flowers invaded and soothed me. I pulled myself up higher on the bed and settled on my elbows to look upon this— this intruder better. She remained cool, unperturbed, her lips widened into an amused smile._

_“There is no need to fight,” her voice echoed in my head, gentle and kind. And though a part of me felt she was wrong, a larger part of me calmed and submitted. As if she were a snake charmer, and I, a docile cobra. Her words felt as if they allowed no arguments, and in my fogged mind, I could not find any reason to do otherwise._

_And so I stilled. And the moment I did, she moved again. She slid my dress up my body, to my waist. And I blushed, heavily. My flow was always heavy and stayed for 8 nyts. It was a reason, the doctor said, why I remained so anemic, I bled too much._

_And Gerald had refused to touch me on our wedding nyt because of it. Now this creature fluidly crawled her way up my legs and licked her lips, as if she were about to partake in a great feast. “Let me thank you properly,” she said— commanded— as she reached my drawers. And I heated, and I gasped when she practically ripped them apart. And then…_

_And then she spread my legs, which followed her direction willingly. And I was presented to her. I imagined my nether lips, lined with blood, and flinched, prepared for an admonishing. But it never came. Instead, this creature kissed my inner-thighs and breathed, almost adoringly into my mind, “you are exquisite.”_

_And whatever strength I had left me, as my elbows collapsed under me, and I laid back in bed. Her lips were soft, claiming, and warm. Their press on my skin drove any other thought out of my mind. Where I was. Who I was. What I was doing— letting be done. Nothing else mattered. Just her, just me. Just us._

_And she was gentle. Yet confident. There was no hesitation in her kisses, in each languid stroke of her tongue, each deliberate graze of her sharp teeth. By the time she was exploring the slickness of my folds, I was shaking, terribly, in arousal. I had never felt such things before, never imagined someone to taste my blood from down there. But it was… absolutely divine._

_It made my eyes close. Made my mouth gasp and whimper and release noises I had never heard come from myself before. And when her tongue, which felt so strangely long, probed, into my entrance, it made me moan. I was powerless, and I was euphoric. The sensations were overwhelming and delicious._

_And then there were two fingers inside of me. Long, tapered, strong, and they curled so masterfully. They hit all the spots that made me moan, made a tightness in my groin bloom and wind tighter and tighter and tighter, until I felt like I was going to explode, cry, or die._

_And then she finally spoke again, encouraging and fervid, “come undone, Elena.” And I did. Hard. The tightness in me reached its peak, and I came. I felt my ecstasy and blood stain my thighs. And it was so devastatingly sublime. And even during it, and after it, her hand did not stop._

_And her mouth didn’t either. They continued their skilled and systematic assault, even increasing in speed and tact. They tuned and wound and played me like I was a musical instrument, intent on sensually and sexually wringing every note and melody they could get out of me. Until I was sobbing in pleasure and screaming in delight._

_My usual shyness was thrown out the window. This woman stripped my inhibitions and had me yowling like a cat in heat. But I didn’t care, no, not at the time. And strangely, no matter how loud I was, nobody came to check on me. Which made me think even more that it was just a dream._

_And it went on and on, her mouth and hands coaxing the most body-wrecking orgasms from me until I slipped into unconsciousness. And when I awoke, no evidence of those lustful activities remained other than small bruises on my chest and thighs and the bloodied imprint of fingerprints on my skin. My drawers were intact. There were no dark robes discarded on my floor. And last nyt— though the scent of flowers continued to grace me, the creature, that woman didn’t come again._

_And it worry-es me so, for if it was just a dream, a dream so vivid and wild that it got me to touch myself and leave bruises on myself as I slept, then why did I dream it? I had never fantasized of women in such a way, not even Samantha, whom many men have lauded as beautiful. And I definitely did not know where I would have gotten such lewd images from as I had never had sex before._

_But as much as the source of my possible dreams scared me, the alternative was even more frightening. For it meant that a creature of the nyt had taken me. She had taken my purity, my body, and my blood. And— and now, as I sit here and write this and remember how she had so thoroughly ravaged me— I became even more scared because I realize now a truth that cannot be denied._

_I miss it. And I crave it._

_And I wish for the creature to come to me again and sex me into oblivion once more._

_—_

_8 November,_

_She came back last nyt._

_I had left the window open. I had lit the candles. And then I stayed up, waiting. Listening. The clock was ticking, and it was close to midnyt when the shadow appeared. It came as it did before, carrying a heavier scent of sweet flowers and misting in through the window and then approaching the bed. And as with that nyt I first saw her, she was revealed to me with a great shedding of shadow turned robes._

_She was exquisite. Her hair remained long and lustrous and wild, never still. Never still. And her eyes, though diamonds, were warm and inviting and focused. They slid up my body to my face, locked on my gaze, and then quietly claimed me with the most mesmerizing appraisal and admiring perusal. “You are no longer bleeding, Elena,” she said with a rakish curl of her lips._

_“Don’t worry,” she then said, her smile remaining, her lips still not moving with her words. “I can change that.” Then she came upon me. The first nyt, she had been more gentle, more careful. Each touch calculated and smooth. But last nyt, with my self-bewildering but easy submission, she had ruined me, thoroughly and completely._

_It makes me tremble now to remember what she did to me. But what from, I am unsure— anger? Arousal? Fear? Need? She had climbed on top of me and captured my lips with great fervor, her hungry mouth easily swallowing my moans of protest and passion. Her hands roved over my body, curious and competent, molding themselves to the curve of my breasts and hips, tweaking my nipples into unbelievable hardness through the thin material of my nytdress._

_Her mouth was unyielding and open. Her tongue, which had sent me to different levels of heaven before, now thrust itself into my mouth and explored its every inch. Her nails were long, digging, and I felt them leave half-moon marks on my skin as she groped me roughly. And it didn’t take long for me to soon be naked. She had slashed through the cloth of my dress and drawers with her nails, and then her mouth was sucking in as much of my left breast as it could._

_My skin, pale and with a thin film of sweat, glistened under her attention and beautifully contrasted her golden hair. Her hand slid its way down my stomach, to the dip between my hip and groin, and then between my legs, prompting me to slide my legs open. She skillfully and adroitly teased the budding of my clit and the slickening of my nether lips, making me absurdly wet as she moved to show as much affection to my right breast as she did my left with her hot mouth._

_Her touch was like ambrosia to me, and I could not claim shame. It would be moot, especially after I had kept the windows open and candles lit, waiting for her to come and take me. And then— then I felt it. What I had seen between her legs before. Why I had hesitated in calling her just a woman…_

_The pulsating and veiny hardness slid along my thigh, the spongy and smoothened top leaving a trail of slickness on my skin. It was like that of a man, girthy and heavy. I pushed myself up on my elbows, wanting to see it in all its glory— not having been witness to one before except for pictures in the medical books that were in my father's library— but she remained latched onto my breast._

_And the pleasure she delivered with the swirl of her long tongue and the sharp biting of her teeth was not to be easily overlooked. Each sensation made me whimper and mewl in need. I was helpless, drowning in ecstasy. I was so undone that I feared death would become me the moment she would bury her hardness in me._

_I arched my body instinctively, pressed my chest against her lips and deliriously moaned for more. I wanted to reach peak again, I wanted to fall apart with her inside of me, bringing me to dizzying heights of passion that I had never even thought of imagining before. And she, as if knowing my need even before I did, sat up on her knees and smiled down on me— kindly? Fiendishly? Fondly? With a devil’s intent._

_And then my eyes fell to the erect shaft between her legs. It was magnificent. Thick, tall, with a broad tip glistening with wetness. My muscles twitched and spasmed and ached at the thought of taking all of that in. Was it possible? She would break me, break me in half— cut me in twain. She would destroy me, and by god, I needed her to._

_Seeing it now, a primal part of me growled in need. It wanted to be filled, to be claimed, to be taken and broken and ripped apart and sexed into oblivion. And I could not deny it, not when she watched me, her diamond-sapphire eyes glowing with a primordial need. For me. For my body. My blood. And my soul._

_And the need, relentless, crackled under the skin of her hands as they pushed my legs apart and lined her hardness against my entrance. The tip was smooth, slick, and broad. It slowly pushed in with unending pressure, soon to be followed by a narrower neck, and then the delicious thickness of her hot, pulsating shaft._

_She was big, and she pushed in deeper with no hesitation or mercy. And as she did so, I felt something within me snap, a flash of sharp pain, and my whole body tensed and tightened and spasmed, but still didn’t hinder her continued advance._

_She felt buried deep inside me, but god, she pushed in still more. And I was sobbing, wailing. She seemed endless, and my muscles squeezed and clenched, pulling her in deeper. She tilted her hips and the rounded tip of her hardness pressed against the sensitive, ridged spot along the front wall of my insides, and I felt a wonderful surge of pleasure._

_I threw my head back and fell back on the bed as well, no longer able to hold myself up. And her voice, all-knowing and so sensual rang in ev’ry edge of my mind. “So tight, Elena,” she complimented, her voice pleased and imposing. “My little virgin, I feel your blood on me. And it excites me. Now let me feel you come apart around me.” Her encouraging voice pushed me over the edge, and I cried out in utter bliss— pleasure so cutting it almost felt like pain._

_I came apart, just as she wanted. And my peak was like a trigger to her own restraint. She grabbed my hips with strong, dexterous fingers and started to delve her shaft inside me, mercilessly. Her penetration journey-ed within me, from my soaked lips to the entrance of my womb. Her thighs pressed flush against my flesh, the rhythmic slap of skin on skin enticing and depraved. She was like an animal, feral, and I, un-holy and sinful as her now, welcomed every thrust and met them as much as I could._

_And when she came, spirits, when she came, she filled me. She overwhelmed me. Hot spurts of thick ecstasy was pumped into me and it was almost— almost unbearable. And it pushed me, again, off the edge. And I came once more as she continued to fill me with her seed. It was akin to a flood and with it came waves of sweet pleasure. I was ruined, completely. Irreversible beyond measure. And I was given no time to ponder this as her hips continued their rhythm, and she thrust into me again and again and again until she was once again releasing herself into me and triggering my own orgasm._

_It was, it seemed, a ceaseless cycle. And my belly soon swelled from the come that she filled me with and then flooded between my thighs and pooled under my seating. She was tireless, and her masterful ministrations soon had me peaking into unconsciousness. And when I awoke, my clothes were once again whole, but my body retained bruises and bitemarks, deep purple and unforgiving, on my thighs and on my chest._

_They were tender and sore. And they felt so, so sinfully good. Marks of my lover. Marks of my taker. My insides felt quite terribly used and abused as well, and I ached to be filled once more by the addicting fullness of her weighty hardness. The loss was awful. And it made me wish I didn’t have to wait for nyt, for my dreams, or for whatever it is that she was— because I was now captivated. Haunted, even in my waking hours._

_Everything else seems mundane compared to the kaleidoscope of emotions and sensations that she made me feel. And every hour of the day crawls almost impossibly slow, making my skin itch and my muscles twitch. I do not know how much longer I can wait. My impatience is growing, and Samantha has noticed my blooming frustration. She has taken to making sure I eat my three meals and soothing me, telling me that Gerald would be home soon. She readily assumed that it was his missing that was driving me half-insane._

_I let her think that. It would be better that way. Better than telling her, “no, dear, what I miss is the woman-creature that ravages me with her hands, mouth, and massive cock at nyt in my dreams.” That would definitely make her think I was having hysterics and would need to be sent to the local asylum. And I could not have that! No. I needed to be where I should be at nyt, to ensure that my taker would continue to come to me. My bedroom. Windows open. And candles lit._

_Now I just have to wait— wait past bland oatmeal for breakfast, wait past my history and music lessons in the morning, wait past the tasteless roast and potatoes for lunch, wait past my meetings with the house staff and Alexander’s messengers, wait, wait, wait (and yes, I am sure the food looked very appetizing and was probably quite good, but everything but her mouth tasted like ash to me in my obsession), and wait even more until the sun finally went down, and I would be allowed to excuse myself to my bedchambers for the nyt._

_And then wait, just a bit more. Just a bit more, and hope— hope that she would somehow come again._

_—_

_10 November,_

_There is a point one reaches where one can no longer differentiate reality from fantasy— and I had thought that I had reached that the first nyt that she had claimed me. But it seems that with each visit, she continues to destroy whatever limitations I thought I possessed and drive me further past insanity and debauchery._

_She was insatiable. Incorrigible. And ravenous. A nyt with her was both ruinous and exhilarating, as if every thrust was a touch of life and death. Creative in her exquisite torture, she made every encounter a discovery of new lustful desires. Last nyt, she took my thin, satin bed sheet in her hands and wound it to the tightness of a cord and wrapped it around my neck as she savagely took me from behind, her thick length viciously stretching me from within._

_Her ferocity was breathtaking and every scream she sexed out of me hoarsened my voice and made my throat strain against the unforgiving reins she pulled tight. Like a wild mare, I was being ridden— an animal being rutted into submission. And I was gushing with arousal at the act, my wetness shameless. Her voice echoed encouragingly in my mind, her words wanton and sincere._

_“You are beautiful, Elena.”_

_“Your tightness is bliss.”_

_“I will fill you to brimming, sow you with my seed.”_

_“Swell with my love.”_

_Her completions burst into me in generous surgings, her throbbing shaft pushing her heat into my womb. And overflowed, the thick and sticky cream running down my legs and saturating the plush cloth beneath my knees. The tightness around my neck was erotic, and the lack of air made flecks of darkness swim in my vision. It was dangerous, and I was euphoric._

_My very life was in the hands of this creature— and she was sublime._

_And I was ravished._

_Thoroughly and wholly so._

_—_

**The Journal of Gerald Hunt:**

_**10th of November,** _

_**The journey home has been uneventful, and I am glad to have arryved home sooner than planned. The Montagues and Cranes have been agreeable to the conditions set by Alexander, and I am pleased with the results of our meetings.** _

_**I am eager to see my beloved once more.** _

_**My sweet Elena.** _

_**—** _

_**It is close to midnight, and here I am in my study. Worry-ed. Samantha had met me at the door at my arrival. Her words quickly doused my excitement. She informed me that my new wife, Elena, has been fatigued and prone to sleep. I had concerns for her health, wondering if she may be sick. But when I finally saw her, I was confused.** _

_**I have never seen Elena like this before.** _

_**She was listless, distracted. She barely even kissed my cheek when she saw me, her reaction quite subdued. I had hoped for her to be eager, to jump into my arms, my name on her lips. But that was not the case. She was pale; paler than usual, her eyes darting, impatient. As if time itself was her enemy.** _

_**Though when I asked her how she was feeling, my sweet wife smiled shyly upon me and confessed how she had missed me so. I am unsure, but I take her words to heart as my long love has never lied to me before. Perhaps it is her moon time that has weakened her so? Unusual, but possible. Since she remains low of blood during those times.** _

_**Tomorrow, I will call upon a doctor to come and check on her for me.** _

_**But for now, I will go and take her in my arms and sleep with my beloved.** _

  
  



	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! 
> 
> As promised, this is the second and last chapter of our dark and seductive little story here.
> 
> And what do you think of this style? By journals and letters and somewhat old-ish English. AYE to seeing more of it? Or NAY, one is good enough!
> 
> Once again, I am very thankful for all the kudos, bookmarks, and reviews— special thanks of course to these lovely people:  
> • QuiteTheScreamer  
> • JBQ  
> • Alliedstasis  
> • ayoez  
> Thank you for the wonderful reviews! They really inspire me and help me write!
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this update— and a warning, as usual, this part will take a darker turn, so, delicious humans:
> 
> Enter at your own risk.
> 
> And enjoy!
> 
> Trigger warning and general warning for murder/suicide, angst, dark/sexual fantasies, sex, graphic descriptions, violence, and altogether just a whole lot of dark themes.

The Journal of Elena Hunt née Luthor:

_ 11 November, _

_ He has returned sooner than I had expected, hoped. And his return brings with it a great burden, heaving and roiling in my belly.  _

_ His touch makes me recoil inwardly, his body blocky where hers is curved, smooth, almost serpentine. His hands rough where hers are nearly silken. His beard is prickly on my skin, and his kisses, banal and… dispassionate. It is terrible. Almost torturous, how I have to endure his attentions. But it is what I must do. _

_ I must deceive him, convince him that nothing has changed. For if not— I worry of what he might do. Will he believe me in hysterics and send me away? To an asylum? Where my lover won’t be able to reach me?  _

_ The very possibility of that agonizes me and enforces in me the need to project a certain normalcy, a visage of who I once was. At least until he leaves again. I know Alexander has already planned another trip for him to go north to visit the Greys. And that journey is to last even longer than a fortnyt.  _

_ Impatience becomes me at the very thought. _

_ I cannot bear to be away from her for much longer… _

_ —  _

The Journal of Gerald Hunt:

**_12th of November,_ **

**_It seems now to me that I have been worried for naught. Elena woke up yesterday with a beautiful color to her cheeks and cheer to her smile. She ate meals with gusto and laughed sweetly, her voice, a blessing to my ears. Even Samantha, it seemed, was surprised. And more so when Elena woke up with the same enthusiasm today._ **

**_I have postponed calling upon the doctor at this time, not wanting to make my darling uncomfortable. Especially when it seems that her malaise has vanished completely. It convinces me that it was indeed from missing my presence that she had gotten ill. A sickness that has now resolved. I am relieved. And I hope that with a few more days of rest, she and I will be able to do what we had been unable to do on the night of our wedding._ **

**_Oh Elena, how stunning you are to me!_ **

**_My mind is gripped with the desire to possess you in your entirety._ **

**_Soon. But never soon enough, I will give love to you, and you will give love to me._ **

**_—_ **

The Journal of Elena Hunt née Luthor:

_ 13 November,  _

_ Gerald will be going out to the Gentlemen’s club tonyt. And when he goes— he frequently stays late, talking shop, business, and such with his fellows. I look forward to this opportunity. It has been many a nyt that I have not…  _ _ experienced _ _ my lover. And I am wrought with need and impatience. It has been getting harder and harder to act normally around Gerald, and Samantha (who has known me for even longer than he has).  _

_ And soon, I will no longer be able to sustain this deception. The beautiful bruises on my skin have faded to a light green-yellow. The luscious soreness between my legs has dissipated. I am deprived and famished— I have tried to relieve myself as she did. However, my efforts were in vain. My fingers, my hands, my acts— none of it could compare to hers. To her. _

_ And tonyt. Oh. Tonyt… I will open the windows, light the candles, and hope.  _

_ I will hope, severely and fiercely, that she comes back. _

_ Because I am in need, and it is only her that can satisfy it. _

_ — _

_ 14 November, _

_ Last nyt… _

_ Last nyt was… surprising.  _

_ Surprising and transcendent. _

_ I had left the windows open and lit the candles as I had written. And in the soft light of them, she came to me once more, the dark shadow billowing into robes that fell from her shoulders and revealed the stellar body I had become familiar with. She was so, so beautiful. Ethereal. Almost unreal. I had concluded a few days back that she was as such, a creature from another plane or dimension. And the hypothesis was decidedly intriguing yet irrelevant to me. _

_ She could reveal herself to be the very devil — trying to drag my soul straight to hell, and I still wouldn’t even blink an eye. I am already beyond salvation, beyond reason. I needed her, wanted her, yearned for her— and nothing would or could get in the way of my exigency for completion.  _

_ And she came to me, carrying with her that flowered scent that I have grown to miss terribly. And she was naked as the first nyt, her diamonds for eyes radiant in the flickers of the candles. Tinged blue. Her hair falling down in delicate waves down her form, never still. Never still. She took the very breath from my lungs, made me sigh in longing at the mere sight of her. And then her voice, softer and sweeter than I have ever heard it, purled in ev’ry nook and line of my mind. _

_ “Elena.”  _

_ Shivers, unbidden, kissed their way down my spine, my skin tingling, my hands trembling. Her effect on me was immediate and tantalizing. Her lips were curled into a knowing smile, her arrogance was both alluring and arousing. Soon, but never soon enough, she was on the bed with me. Her body curved possessively over mine, her full lips pressed against the pulsing on the left side of my neck. Her teeth grazed my skin, intentional. _

_ “I have missed you, darling.” _

_ And I felt my chest tighten— and my heart swell until it felt almost uncomfortable. Those five words from her made me feel a multitude of emotions that years with Gerald never elicited. It was partly disconcerting, and overall, exhilarating. And then, she kissed me. Her lips were velvet, her mouth open. She was warm, sincere, and almost— almost tender. Her hands framed my face, guided me closer. My eyes closed instinctively, and I lost myself in her masterful ministrations. _

_ It was wrenching… _

_ I was used to her strength, her power, her dominance— and her gentleness, her softness, her reverence for me, my body, surprised and overcame me. And it was not long before the very blood in my bones steamed in the heat of her delicate passion. Her hands. Her mouth. Her style. She used the candles I had left out for her and dripped melted wax upon my skin, each drop a hiss and a sting, pushing a sharp exhale through my teeth. Followed by a soothing kiss to red skin and a murmured appreciation in my mind.  _

_ My orgasms last nyt were incomparable. And when I finally drifted off to slumber, satisfied and wonderfully exhausted, I felt arms wrap themselves around my waist.  _

_ “Elena,” her voice whispered.  _

_ “I have grown quite fond of you.” _

_ — _

_ Now, as I write this. Awake. I wonder what exactly she meant. _

_ — _

_ 15 November,  _

_ I retired to bed early yesterday, describing a great and honest aching in my muscles and a throbbing in my temples. I was too preoccupied with thoughts of my last nyt with my lover, and I could not even pretend to entertain Gerald when he tried to start conversations with me, causing me to have a headache. So I thought it best to excuse myself early and give myself time to reflect and ponder.  _

_ She has grown fond of me. _

_ The mere thought made a pleasant tingle bloom in my belly and my cheeks flush with heat. It feels reminiscent of my youth, with Gerald, yet…  _ _ more. _ _ Even more. It made me feel an intense ache in my chest in her absence. And an extreme fullness with her presence.  _

_ What am I to do? _

_ I do not even know what she is. And at times, I cannot even be sure how real she is. Today, the bruises are all gone. And the hot wax she used on me only two nyts before did not even leave any marks. My clothes, once again, were intact. All that was truly left was her effect on me. And I… _

_ I do not know what to do now. _

_ All I know is that I  _ ~~_ want, need, love  _ ~~ _ her. And I want her to feel it back. _

_ — _

_ 16 November, _

_ Last nyt, I retired early to bed once more. Not even partaking of supper. I had no appetite, no desire to put myself through the torture of pretending that everything was well and normal. Gerald had eyed me warily and asked if I needed him to call upon the doctor. I denied such necessity and assured him that I was only tired from the heatwave that arrived today. He took my answer reluctantly but allowed me to excuse myself.  _

_ And I laid in bed. For hours, tired, but not of the heat— tired of the waiting, tired of the loss, tired of him. Of this life where I do not wake up to the beauty that ravishes me so flawlessly and incomparably. Then, sooner than I hoped, Gerald was settling in for the nyt as well. Dressed in his nytshirt, he slid himself behind me and tried to wrap his arms around me, but I quickly and almost rudely pulled away.  _

_ “It is too hot, darling,” I reasoned, knowing it appropriate and following the vein of my previous excuse.  _

_ He sighed. Deeply. I could tell that he was very unhappy with me. But Gerald has always been patient, so instead, he placed a hand on my waist, and I reluctantly allowed it. It was a wide hand, so unlike hers, slender, tapered, smooth but for just a few calluses. The difference was strangely jarring. And it only made me feel worse.  _

_ And as we laid there, silent, but for our breathing, the scent that I have become so familiar with began to permeate the air. I was surprised. It was the first time this has happened with Gerald there. But happen, it did. That flowered scent, wilded and bloomed. It was perfect, it was intoxicating. I opened my eyes. There were no candles left out. The only light was from the moon, filtering in delicately through the open window. _

_ “Dear god,” I heard Gerald cough out. “What is this awful smell?” _

_ His judgement made my hands clench tightly.  _ _ Awful? _ _ I wanted to turn and slap him straight across the face.  _

_ “It is the raw scent of nature,” I told him through my teeth, angered. Almost hissing. _

_ “Nature?” He laughed. “Elena, it is atrocious. If it weren’t so hot, I’d quickly close the windows.”  _

_ I inhaled, deeply and tremulously, at his words. He was quickly pushing me— pushing me, making me want to truly slap him. But a voice in my head, so supernal and gossamer, stopped me.  _

_ “Elena, darling, do you want to be with me instead?”  _

_ And in that moment, I knew. I knew what my decision was. There was no doubt, hesitation, or uncertainty.  _

_ “Yes,” I breathed, with the air of yearning from my chest: my lungs and my heart. I heard Gerald say something, a question. But to me, he was already gone. Irrelevant. And all I could do was wait, tense with impatience and need and desire.  _

_ And love. _

_ Then, again, her voice echoed in my head. _

_ “As you wish, my love. So now, you must die.” _

_ And I felt a cold shiver, spontaneous and electrifying, make its way down my spine. _

_ Then, slowly, slowly, I drifted off to sleep. _

_ Now here I am.  _

_ Waiting.  _

_ Wondering.  _

_ Needing.  _

_ Missing. _

_ I will die. Happily, if that is what it takes.  _

_ So come to me, my love. Take me in your arms and carry me to your world. I am afraid no longer— for my only fear now is losing you. _

_ — _

The Journal of Gerald Hunt:

**_17th of November,_ **

**_I have noticed, as of late, the great exhaustion of my wife, Elena._ **

**_Samantha had informed me of something akin to this upon my return._ **

**_However, I had believed it resolved in the past few days I have been home, thinking it to be caused by a great missing of me. She had perked up, fantastically, with my presence. But now, she has become ill again with great aches and pains and weary-es to bed in the early evenings for the past three days. I have become quite worried and have decided to cut my next trip short. I have been gone for much a time, immediately so soon after our wedding and change of residence._ **

**_I have to spend time with my beloved and aid in nursing her to better health._ **

**_I will speak to Alexander of this when we meet with the Greys and will ask for his blessings in my endeavour._ **

**_As is my plan, of course, and until then, I will be doing what I can to help my beloved. Even now, I sit at the desk next to our bed, watching over her and making certain that she receives whatever it is she needs during her time of illness. It is disconcerting, really. For as I have said previously, I have never seen Elena like this before._ **

**_Today, she woke with wide, open eyes, shining with keen resolve that seemed both so vivid and unreachable. Her face was gaunt, more gaunt than I have ever seen. And her skin was pale, like the sheen of ivory. She looked quite ill indeed. And the first words she spoke to me were hoarse and mildly eerie…_ **

**_“You must take care, Gerald,” she said, her voice tinged with concern and foreboding. I had asked her what she meant by that, but she did not answer me and, instead, closed her eyes again, her delicate mouth curled into a small smile._ **

**_What is happening to my beloved? To my Elena, and what_ **

**_—_ **

**_Elena suddenly awoke again. It was nearly noon. She was perspiring profusely, her night dress near soaked and clinging to her slender form. Has she always been this frail? Her hands were shaking, and her teeth were clattering. It was terrible. And then she asked me to go and fetch the doctor…_ **

**_I hope it is not too late._ **

**_God, I hope it is not too late._ **

**_—_ **

**_18th of November._ **

**_—_ **

**_19th of November._ **

**_—_ **

**_20th of November,_ **

**_It was too late._ **

**_I had gone to fetch the doctor, and we had come back as soon as we could. It took barely half an hour. But…_ **

**_But, unfortunately, that was enough._ **

**_I returned to Samantha and a few other servants in front of the door to our chambers. Samantha was frantically knocking; screaming and pleading for Elena to open the door. But her words fell on deafened ears. The heavy, wooden door was locked. And two of the house staff had already begun to heave their bodies against its solid frame._ **

**_“She- she has locked herself in, Gerald,” Samantha worriedly explained to me, her visage twisted in confusion and distress. “I was watching her, as you asked. But then she awoke and started begging me for water. Explained that her throat was parched. And so I went to get her a glass and when I returned, the door was locked. She would not let me in, Gerald. She will not let me in!”_ **

**_Her words made my heart freeze in an almost arctic fear. What was happening to my Elena? My beloved? My stomach roiled violently, and my chest promptly constricted. I felt utterly wretched. And in a frenzied panic, I pushed the two men out of my way and, powered strictly by fright, kicked as hard as I could near the doorknob._ **

**_It was not enough._ **

**_So I tried once more. I kicked. Strongly and squarely, and I felt the wood start to give, though just slightly._ **

**_“Open this door, Elena!” I commanded, demanded, pleaded as I kicked the door again, intentionally hitting the same point of prior contact. The wood creaked and groaned, making me growl in anger. I needed the door down. I needed to be with my darling. It was inexcusable! Why did Elena do that? Why did she rid of me and Samantha?_ **

**_When the third kick made impact, by the grace of an improbable miracle, the wood splintered where the doorknob was holding it in place and brokenly swung open. I rushed inside, Samantha and the doctor right behind me. Elena was on the bed and she… she…_ **

**_She looked_ ** **_petrified_ ** **_._ **

**_Her face was frozen. In a most terrifying manner and her eyes, oh God, her eyes. Green as they were, vivid as they once were, they were now blank and covered with an odd film, almost opaque, and narrowed into curved slits. And her lips, pale as her ivory skin and marked purple-bruised, were twisted into a feral grin. Almost all teeth— my love had been transformed into a porcelain cadaver._ **

**_All cold. All-white. All death._ **

**_The doctor came forward to palpate for a pulse, to seek for any signs of life. But I knew… I knew._ **

**_—_ **

**_21st November,_ **

**_Elena._ **

**_Today we rest your fragile, beautiful body in the tombs._ **

**_And I,_ **

**_My love. I am reduced to a thing that mourns. I am inconsolable and shamed. I have lost you, and with you, I have lost myself. Your hands were like ice, and in mine, they felt both alien and distant. You were distant. So far gone that nothing I do could ever bring you back_ **

**_Elena_ **

**_Elena_ **

**_I am in suffering!_ **

**_Come back, Elena…_ **

**_Come back and take me._ **

**_Take me with you._ **

**_Anywhere. Anywhere._ **

**_—_ **

**_22nd of November,_ **

**_I am driven mad._ **

**_It is unreal. It is unreal. It must be dreams: horrible, torturous dreams. Nightmares of baiting and mocking. My Elena,_ ** **_MY_ ** **_Elena was gone. Dead. In the skies, in the heavens. Beyond real, beyond touch. But last night_ **

**_Last night._ **

**_I saw her._ **

**_She had come from the shadows, her smooth, pearly skin almost silver in the moon-light. Her eyes were like diamonds, with the shine of emeralds, flickering in the candle-lights. And the sharp angles of her face were textured, scaled. Like the skin of a venomous snake. The very sight of her was both frightening and confounding. And when she spoke, her mouth, still mildly bruised, remained unmoved._ **

**_“Gerald,” she sighed softly into my mind. “I have come back for you. As you have asked.”_ **

**_And she was. She was back. Standing at the foot of_ ** ~~**_my_ ** ~~ **_our bed, exquisite in the beautiful dress we had rested her in. Her long, luxurious hair falling like waves of a waterfall, never still. Never still. And I was deeply stunned and perplexed._ **

**_Was this my Elena?_ **

**_My love. My loss._ **

**_Her laugh, so familiar, yet also so diaphanous and delicate, bubbled softly in my head as she began to climb onto the bed. Coming closer, closer_ **

**_And closer still to me._ **

**_And then her hands were on my chest. And her face was but a breath from mine. The scent of flowers, cloying and honeyed, clung to her form and invaded my senses. Overpowering. Overwhelming. I was weak and willing to her advance, quickly submitting. And then her lips were on the curve of my ear, and her hands were wrapped firmly around my throat, tense with a strength I never knew she possessed ._ **

**_And she crooned, “come with me now.”_ **

**_“Give me your all, Gerald.”_ **

**_“Give me your soul.”_ **

**_And then… I woke._ **

**_I woke. And I wept. I wept for my loss, for my Elena. For my love. If to have her means to have her in my nightmares, then so let it be! I am drowned in terrible sorrow without my Elena, and if my soul is what it takes_ **

**_Then take it._ **

**_Take it, Elena. Take it and come back to me._ **

**_Tonight, come back and take me._ **

**_Please…_ **

**_Let me suffer your loss no more._ **

  
  


**_—_ **

**_—_ **

**_—_ **

_ A letter to Alexander Luthor from Samantha Arias: _

_ Sir Alexander Luthor,  _

_ I regret being the bearer of severe news, but a great tragedy has struck us again. I am writing to inform you of the unexpected and tragic death of Mr. Gerald Hunt, your friend and widowed husband of our beloved Elena.  _

_ His grief had driven him mad near his death, and he had locked himself in their chambers after the laying of your sister to rest. He stayed there until his death which was discovered just to-day due to a strange smell coming from their room.  _

_ The door was still just partially fixed, so we were quickly able to come in quickly and check on him. Which is when we found him… deceased. Curiously so. With his hair turned shockingly white and his skin dried and cracked. As if his misery had aged him greatly— _

_ I am sorry, Sir Alexander, to be giving you this news so soon after the loss of Elena. We will start preparing for his funeral here. Please let me know of what else is to be done. _

_ Your loyal servant, _

_ Samantha Arias _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohp.
> 
> And there it is. 
> 
> Now we have two sexy succubus/incubus hybrids roaming around and stealing people’s souls. Tell me, which one would you rather be visited by?  
> Also, as Gerald’s grief overtakes him, his journal writing becomes more sloppy and incoherent. It was kind of what I was going for. I hope it wasn’t too confusing!
> 
> 🔺
> 
> And this will be my last stand-alone Dark SuperCorp addition for a while as I am sifting through many prompts right now to see which one would be a good one to add to this wicked series. 
> 
> And which ones to write epilogues/snaps/follow-ups for. I know a lot of you want to see HumanKara from “She Learned to Deal with The Devil,” so I am currently working on that right now.
> 
> I am also currently working on something— different, so please keep an eye out for that! I hope you enjoyed this one! 
> 
> Once again, delicious humans, thank you! 
> 
> p.s. Thank you everyone for the very kind and encouraging words. They really helped me feel better ♥️ may you all stay safe and healthy!

**Author's Note:**

> I have always been fascinated by stories written in the style of long-hand letters or journals— and have always found old/older English to be very romantic, so I thought I would try it in a story of my own. I hope I did it justice. Please tell me what you think? 
> 
> • Also, I was going through a very sexually inspired time when I wrote this, so it might seem very porn-without-plottish, and well, honestly, what’s wrong with that?  
> • And who doesn’t want to be ravaged by such a beautiful succubus/incubus like our re-imagined Kara? Woot-woot. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this new addition!
> 
> The second chapter will be posted next!
> 
> 🔺🔺🔺 
> 
> Real-life venting that you can just skip through: 
> 
> I just need to get it out. 
> 
> I work as a COVID-ICU nurse currently. And that’s why my stories are darkly-themed right now— because life itself is so dark right now. I have never felt more scared and more worried and more proud to be a nurse...
> 
> And last night— last night was like a storm, coming, roaring, and uprooting everything in its path, leaving an awful mess. We had to emergently intubate multiple patients last night, and they were all crashing at the same time. 
> 
> Young. Old. Male. Female. Different blood types. Healthy. Or with a medical history.
> 
> We were giving them 100% oxygen on the ventilator (breathing machine) and they were still unable to oxygenate properly. Their lungs are almost completely opaque on the chest x-rays. Their laboratory values (blood draws) are awful, and their prognosis don’t look promising— I am so tired. Exhausted, to the bone. And most of my fellow caregivers are too.
> 
> Because of this, of what I do, I have not interacted with my family in 3 months to prevent possibly infecting them if I do get it. I have also stopped spending time with friends who have children or are immuno-compromised. I try to stay home and self-quarantine myself, worried that I might unintentionally spread COVID if I am an asymptomatic carrier of it…
> 
> As my friends in health care have also done.
> 
> And I am worried. That I am not enough. That what we do is not enough. Our efforts seem so futile. Trying to stop the spread? Futile. Doing our very best to support and treat those who already have it? Futile. Though we give it our all with every patient we have…
> 
> I am worried that when I hold their hand and tell them their family loves them and wishes they were there, that it is not enough. I am worried that when I try to comfort their family, it is not enough. 
> 
> I hold the phone to the ears of intubated, sedated/paralyzed (to help them breath better with the breathing machine) patients so that their loved ones can talk to them and tell them that “it’s okay. We’ll be okay. You don’t have to fight so hard anymore,” it is still not enough. Because they deserve to not be alone during such a frightening time, they deserve to have their loved ones with them, but instead, they have me, gowned up and almost looking like an astronaut, holding their hands through multiple layers and hoping that the warmth reaches them somehow…
> 
> I am tired. I am scared— we are tired. We are scared.
> 
> Every time we wake up to get ready for work, we look at ourselves and have to accept, “this is it. This might be the day I get exposed. This might be the day I start to die.” And it is terrifying. But we go. We go to work. Change into hospital scrubs. Get our assignments, gown up, and give our all. 
> 
> And I just hope, I hope beyond all hope, that this will start to get better. And I am sorry that I put this all here, but I had to get it out...
> 
> There is a pandemic still.
> 
> And we are all at risk.
> 
> — 
> 
> Stay safe everyone. Stay strong.
> 
> 🔺🔺🔺
> 
> —


End file.
